


Making Sense

by kiyala



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Getting Together, Living Together, M/M, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 09:46:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6798880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharing an apartment does very little to help Hanamaki deal with his feelings for Matsukawa. Perhaps that's not such a bad thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Sense

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tookumade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tookumade/gifts).



Summer arrives in Miyagi with the usual heat and rain, and a six-week break from university that has Takahiro feel like he finally has the time to breathe after slowly but steadily being suffocated by assessments. 

Issei celebrates their reprieve from class by lounging face down on the couch in his boxers. It's a little distracting, in the way that Takahiro is steadily growing used to, ever since they moved in with each other at the beginning of the university year. It's something that burns under the surface, no matter how much or how little Issei happens to be wearing at the time. Something that gnaws away at the back of Takahiro's mind when they're not even in the same room. 

It's something Takahiro thought wouldn't really be a big deal, back when they just graduated high school and were making plans for university. The convenience of attending the same university and living together near campus outweighed anything else. At the time, he hadn't even thought of his feelings as a big deal. They were something new, and he assumed that it would just be temporary, that eventually, his heart would stop tripping every time he stared at Issei for too long. 

Instead, it's gotten so much worse than Takahiro could ever anticipate. He's still trying his best to ignore it, but that's been a little difficult recently. It feels like it gets worse with each day that comes and goes, leaving them bickering lightheartedly over the stove in their cramped kitchen, cooking chopsticks clicking against each other as they argue over the proper way to prepare their food; pressed up against each other on the couch, not for lack of space but because it's more comfortable like this; sharing the same space, feeling comfortable with each other in a way that builds on what they already had from high school, turning it into something that _should_ feel unshakeable, if only Takahiro's breath could stop catching in his throat, if only the warmth of Issei's hands on his skin wouldn't linger.

"You're on my side of the couch," Takahiro protests, as he walks across their lounge room. Issei just grunts in reply, still sprawled across the entire length of it, then grunts again when Takahiro lifts his legs, sits down and lets them rest across his lap.

"I was gonna move."

"No you weren't," Takahiro murmurs, and it should be too hot for this, but he doesn't really mind. He absentmindedly curls his fingers around Issei's ankle, and it takes him a moment to consciously stop himself from stroking his thumb back and forth. "I won't make you move, because I'm nice like that."

"The most gracious," Issei mumbles against the couch cushions, then yawns loudly.

"Why does warm weather always turn you into such a sloth?" Takahiro wonders, growing when he finds himself yawning as well. "I swear, you had something like five naps yesterday."

"I'm making up for all the sleep I didn't get during semester," Issei replies. "Besides, we still had to get up for volleyball practice this morning. Even though we're on holidays."

"Tournament's coming up," Takahiro says, as if Issei doesn't already know. "We're going to have to at least try and not get our asses kicked. Maybe see if we can make it to Tokyo."

"For Iwaizumi," Issei finishes, because it's a conversation they've had before. "So we can watch him get his ass kicked by Oikawa."

"So we can get our asses kicked by Oikawa," Takahiro adds, and he still feels a little funny about that, about the very concept of Oikawa being on the other side of a volleyball net to the three of them. He wonders, briefly, what it must feel like to Oikawa, and then firmly pushes the thought from his mind because it's not exactly something he wants to be dwelling on.

"You're thinking too hard right now, aren't you?" Issei murmurs, and Takahiro scrunches his nose up because he knows his expression won't be seen.

"Shut up, I'm not thinking about anything," Takahiro replies. "Actually, I'm thinking about Oikawa trying to toss for Iwaizumi from the other side of the net."

"No you're not," Issei says, with the confidence of someone who knows Takahiro far too well. "But that would be hilarious. He'd just yell _Iwa-chan_ , and I bet Iwaizumi would go with it out of instinct."

Takahiro laughs at Issei's impression of Oikawa, resting his head against the back of the couch. He doesn't realise that he's idly tracing shapes onto Issei's skin until he hears the strained, " _Makki_."

They've taken to using Oikawa's nicknames for each other to make up for his absence, but Takahiro's never heard it being said like this before. He feels his face heat, realising that his fingers are resting at the bend of Issei's knee, curled gently against the soft skin there.

"Um." He snatches his hand away. "Sorry." 

"It's fine," Issei replies. He lifts his head as Takahiro gets up off the couch. "Hey, Makki, where are you—?"

"I'm just…" Takahiro flaps his hand in the direction of the kitchen. "Making tea?"

"In this weather?"

"Iced tea," Takahiro continues. "Um. Shit. I'm just trying to give you space?"

"You don't have to do that." Issei's voice is soft, and he gets to his feet, walking towards Takahiro.

"Mattsun," Takahiro protests, taking a step back.

"Look, I'll give _you_ space, if that's what you want," Issei tells him. "But, you know. This really doesn't have to be so complicated. You can stop freaking out." 

If anything, it just makes Takahiro want to freak out even more. He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and meeting Issei's eyes. This time, when Issei takes a tentative step forward, Takahiro doesn't move away. 

Issei takes a deep breath too, and it occurs to Takahiro that they're both just as nervous as each other about this, and there's no way he can pretend not to know where this is heading. It makes him wonder how he could have possibly missed it, when they've been right in each other's space for so long. Perhaps he's been a step behind Issei all this time, and that thought is both embarrassing and frustrating, for the time that he's potentially wasted.

"I thought I was being obvious," Issei murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Considering that I asked you to live with me."

"It made sense," Takahiro replies, but then he hums as it occurs to him. "A lot of things we do just… make sense."

Issei shrugs, his expression blank as ever, but Takahiro can see the way the corners of his lips are curving upward into a smile. "This makes sense too."

Takahiro wets his lips, and this time, he's the one to step closer. "Yeah. Maybe you're right."

" _Maybe_ ," Issei snorts, resting his hand on Takahiro's shoulder, and they're standing chest to chest, now. 

Takahiro is all too aware of the fact that Issei is wearing nothing but his boxers. He clears his throat. "Aren't you a bit underdressed for this?" 

"Are you really going to make me put pants on just so I can kiss you?" Issei chuckles, and it's ridiculous, the way his words start a flurry of butterflies in Takahiro's stomach. Issei's grin grows wider, and he rests their foreheads together. " _Really_?"

Honestly, Takahiro is sure that he'll lose his nerve if Issei moves away right now. Besides, he's used to this. He can deal with Issei in various states of undress. He's been doing so since they moved in together, and probably for a while before that, too. 

"Just kiss me," Takahiro breathes, and it's satisfying to hear the way Issei sucks in a sharp breath. 

Issei's hand moves from Takahiro's shoulder to the back of his neck, fingers dragging slowly over the warm skin before sliding up into his short hair. Issei pulls back just far enough that he can smile at Takahiro, before he leans in. Takahiro closes his eyes just before their lips meet, soft and warm and brief, before Issei pulls back. Takahiro follows him, his hands settling on Issei's sides. They kiss again, and Issei's fingers curl in Takahiro's hair, tugging gently. Takahiro gasps, his lips parting for Issei's tongue. Issei lets out a low, pleased hum, and Takahiro is suddenly filled with the desperate need to spend hours, _days_ dedicated to discovering every happy sound that Issei can make. 

They kiss harder, until they're both panting, too distracted to breathe properly until they pull away from each other. Takahiro knows that he's grinning, and he doesn't even try to hide it. Issei's grinning just as hard, and it's satisfying to see. 

"You know, I don't even remember when I started liking you this way," Issei murmurs, pressing a kiss to Takahiro's forehead. "Maybe that was just another one of those things that made sense when it happened." 

"Yeah," Takahiro agrees, because he can't pinpoint an exact moment, either. There was never any sudden burst of clarity, just a gradual realisation, and he wouldn't change it for the world. "Maybe."

"Gonna kiss you again," Issei says softly, and apparently Takahiro's heart hasn't stopped swelling, or skipping a beat, or any of the other embarrassing things that it does around Issei. This time, however, Takahiro finds that he doesn't really mind.


End file.
